


Ominous Habits

by RedDice



Category: Durarara!!, Durarara!!(Light Novels)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Arson, Attempted Murder, Awkward Flirting, Boys Kissing, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark!Mikado, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drugs, Flirting, M/M, Masochism, Murder, Mystery, Not Mikado or Aoba though, Psychological Masochism, Pyromania, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, at times - Freeform, violence!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-05-09 23:15:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14725463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedDice/pseuds/RedDice
Summary: In which, Aoba Kuronuma thinks that he might just have the world figured out. Until he meets Taro TanakaOr the fanfic where Aoba is a gang member who moonlights as an arsonist, and Mikado is a serial killer. And in between murder, schemes to consolidate power and  gradually closer calls, they make things work(maybe)





	1. Coincidence

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fic I alternatively titled:  
> 'Two horrible people meet each other by chance. And after a series of very unfortunate events, dead bodies they may or may not have caused, and some very questionable approaches to establishing relationships, they fall in love(maybe).'
> 
>  
> 
> I've wanted to write this for sometime now, so I'm very glad to finally have this up.

“I lost it.”

  
      The subsequent punch to the face was routine by this point, as was this entire situation. To the extent that from the moment Aoba caught sight of his expression, he knew. Neko cost them money, and he’d pay for it in blood.    
Soon, other members joined in, and his groans mingled with the sounds of broken branches and rain.  
  
      Aoba duly noted the horror in the expressions of his fellow bystanders, but all he felt was apathy. Neko’s shortcomings were making him more of a liability than an asset. The difficulty in trafficking Heaven’s Slave had significantly increased after the appearance of Masaomi Kida. Aoba understood Ran’s frustration, especially since Neko’s “accidents” were likely anything but.  
  
  
      If Ran became aware that Nezo was a junkie, Aoba’s brother would commit murder instead of manslaughter. And if the circumstances of their relationship were different, perhaps he would have remained a bystander. But a fact hung over Aoba’s head as he watched blows rain down the idiot he called his friend. Neko was loyal, and therefore worth protecting. As Aoba’s eyes were drawn to the bruised and twitching body of Neko, a few things became clear for him. That it was time for the Blue Squares, as a group, to change. And more importantly, that Ran had overstayed his welcome as the leader. These facts drove his next actions.

 

He smoothed his features into a polite smile as he took a careful step forward.

 

     “The way this is going, he’ll be lucky to walk away from this at all.” Aoba said calmly and his brother turned to face him with a scowl.

     “You have something to say in his defense? Are you going to explain why this is the third time this has happened in two months? I think it should be you who explains this bullshit to Shijima.” Ran snapped. Aoba managed to keep his expression neutral as  his lips threatened to pull into a smirk. He was well aware of the greater extent to which this would impact Ran. If Shijima no longer wanted to do business with him, well…..

     “Are you going to be the one to bury his corpse?” Aoba asked politely and Ran’s eyes narrowed. Neko coughed and was rewarded with a swift kick to the back.

 

 

    “That’s what you said last time. And guess who fucked up again?” Ran muttered.

 

    “Ran has a point, Aoba. Going easy on Neko hasn’t done him any favors. He can consider this a stronger reminder.” Higa chimed in as Aoba shrugged.

 

    “Yeah but is a concussion really going to help him remember?”

    “You fucking smartass,” Ran growled as he advanced on Aoba, Neko’s pummeled, twitching body left forgotten.

    “I’m just offering a helpful opinion.” Aoba claimed as he resisted the urge to add more distance between them. This was not the time to show any weakness. Not when he already risked his brother’s wrath.

    “Bullshit-” He broke off at the sound of Neko vomiting. Aoba barely managed to prevent his pleasant smile from turning into an icy one.

    “He looks like he could use a break, don’t you think?” Aoba asked as he nodded towards Neko, innocent smile maintained. Ran’s gaze didn’t stray from his brother’s face as silence descended upon the gang. Aoba’s gaze didn’t waver either as the storm’s intensity increased. The slow rain became a growing thunderstorm as he waited for his brother to decide.

    

    The sound of footsteps quickly wiped said expression from his face.

    “Well, what kind of party is this? This doesn’t look too friendly.” Kida’s voice came from the shadows, as the young man stepped into view. The young detective had moved nearby only a few weeks ago. Aoba had predicted that the man’s presence would be…...problematic, but not this early.

 

    “We’re looking after a friend. Neko had an unfortunate fall,” Aoba said smoothly as he crouched down next to his “friend.” His squeezed the other man’s shoulder carefully.

    “Are you doing okay now?”

    “Yes I just need some help home. They had already offered to help me,” Neko managed, even adding a smile for character.

    Maybe he wasn’t so useless after all.

    “We were just bringing him back,” Aoba said, as he helped Neko to his feet. His actions were more out of self preservation than friendship however. The other members of the gang moved to follow him, until Kida shook his head.

    “Not so fast, I have some questions for a few of you,” He began and was interrupted by the sound of Neko vomiting.

    “Get him home, Ran. Higa, I need to borrow you two for ten.” Kida said and Aoba eagerly took this opportunity to escape.

 

     It was nearly an hour later, during his walk back home that he encountered his brother again. The fist that greeted his eye was a surprise. The younger man had expected his brother to head home after the interrogation. Clearly, he had underestimated his frustration.The punch had laid him out on the cold, wet ground. Rage rose in Aoba’s throat, but the expression he wore was that of a confused civilian.

    “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

    “Shut the fuck up.” His brother said as he knelt over him, his wet fingers gripping Aoba’s collar. Their eyes met and Aoba knew that his act was a waste of time. Ran knew him, he _saw_ him for what he was.  

    “Do you think, that just because you’re in college, that you’re smarter than _me?_ Don’t overestimate yourself Aoba. Our parents might think you’re god’s gift to the fucking world, but we both know you’re not that special.” He said and leaned back. The following minutes devolved into a full blown assault. Aoba blocked the subsequent punches and kicks with his hands, or at least tried to.

 

     The walk back was one laced with pain, groans, and a simmering rage. One would think that after years of this treatment, he’d develop numbness to this routine. But as he treated his swelling flesh with ice and cold water, his anger only grew. Still, he had enough control to keep his anger concealed. This wasn’t the first time that he reflected on how much easier life would be without his brother. But with each subsequent beating, he could feel his control cracking.

 

      Minutes later, he exited the bathroom and headed outside.  His actions were driven by a strong desire to _get out,_ breathe, and then recompose himself to decide on his next course of action. He toyed with Ran’s lighter idly as he made his way through the woods. He had lifted the object off of Ran a mere ten minutes ago, during his brother’s violent frenzy. As he approached the building he had selected only three days ago, Aoba gave himself a reminder. A reminder that his life wasn’t stagnant, and that one day a life without Ran wouldn’t be a wish. It would be a fact. _But not yet._

  
_But not yet,_ he reminded himself as tried to resolve the anger in his chest. He entered the building after he decided that it was best to forsake the train of thought altogether. Even he wasn’t immune to the clouded judgement that often accompanied anger. Instead he focused on the musky smell of the home, the shelves of books that he’d found. Unsurprisingly, he found none that were interesting, but it wasn’t a disappointment. He wasn’t here to read anyway. Calmly he performed his standard check for squatter and kindling in the building. He wasn’t too keen to unintentionally add murder to his list of committed crimes.

 

      His squatter check returned nothing in terms of hidden homeless people. This fact remained unchanged, even after he subsequently searched through the home a second and third time. In terms of kindling he encountered several pieces of old furniture, carpets, tables and more that were ripe for burning. Finally, he lit a few of Ran’s cigarettes and deposited them in precarious positions. One on the carpet, and the other on leftover wood. As the flames began to build, Aoba duly noted that perhaps his brother was good for something after all. After that, he quickly exited the home to find a decent but secure place to watch the building go up in smoke.

 

       Satisfied or not, he didn’t intend to burn with the rest of the house. Aoba cut through the woods once more, and headed for the spot he picked days before. His movements were quick but silent, a safety measure just in case Ran was following him.He reentered the forest in a matter of minutes, and couldn’t hold back that small smile that graced his face. His smile was wiped away as he almost stumbled into another man.

 

Their eyes locked as Aoba resisted the urge to take a cautionary step backwards. He wasn’t intent on conveying weakness to anyone, let alone a stranger.

 

         “I’m sorry, are you lost?”

         “No, I was just um, looking around.” The other man stammered, averting his eyes. _Were you?_ Aoba questioned. There were questions rising in his throat. _What did you see? What did you hear?_ But he hid them all behind a kind smile.

         “Is there something you’re looking for? Someone?” Aoba asked, wondering if he ran into a lost customer. Despite Aoba’s recommendations, Ran still sold drugs to people in their neighborhood. And he himself wasn’t keen on volunteering himself as a contact.

   
         “Not really, I was looking for a path.” The other man responded as Aoba took in his appearance. He looked young, young enough that he couldn’t be older than twenty-three. _Unless he’s like me._  Aoba himself looked a year short of graduating high school, despite nearing the end of his first year of college. It made him the butt of way too many jokes, but had its advantages in the realm of disarming appearances. The amount of fights he’d won because of being underestimated was satisfying. It was a tradeoff he was willing to live with.

 

          It was probably what made this stranger so willing to talk to him. The interest wasn’t mutual however, as Aoba fully intended to leave as soon as possible. Regardless, his welcoming smile remained constant as he drew forward.

 

          “Shigashia path? You’re close, just keep going straight and you’ll get there in no time.” Aoba informed him, ever the helpful bystander. He passed the other man, more concerned with the fire itself now. _Any minute now._ He didn’t want to risk missing a single moment of it, or worse, have to call the cops to save face.

 

          “Do you live here?” The man asked him and Aoba paused, and slowly turned, _What kind of question is that?*_ He wondered as he faced the man.

          “Yeah, I live a short walk away. Do you need help with something else?” He asked, curiosity momentarily piqued. His response to the other man wasn’t particularly truthful. Forty-five minutes wasn’t exactly a short walk, but a stranger didn’t need to know that. “No, I was just kind of embarrassed. You don’t seem nearly as lost as I am.” The other man admitted and let out a short laugh. Then he extended his hand.

          “My name is Taro. Taro Tanaka.”

          “Aoba.” He responded as he took Taro’s hand gingerly.

          “I have to go! Just remember to keep going straight!” He called, shooting the man a smile before he ran ahead. The smile faded from his face the moment he turned away. Aoba’s journey to the hideout was swift and brief. When arrived he forced himself to pause for air, then slid to the ground. The orange flames had just started to take flight as he arrived. 

 

And just like that, the turmoil in his chest relaxed for now. His shaky breaths slowed as he admired the vision before him. Each time he did this, it became gradually more difficult to tear his gaze away. A long, shaky and damaged road had led to him establishing this kind of relationship with fire. Control came back to him in little parts. He let his hands rest in the dirt as he mulled over the day’s encounters. Already the man he’d met not a few minutes before had begun to fade. _Taro._ His last name was lost to Aoba now, as his mind returned to a much more pressing concern. _Ran._

 

* * *

 

 

          Class the next day was tedious as ever, but at least it brought him one step closer to being on his own. Burning down that building had been a good choice. His violent desires towards his brother had been quelled somewhat. He was back to playing his part as the well mannered freshman with a bright future. Naturally he had managed to avoid his brother with relative ease. The real surprise occurred shortly after he stepped outside.

 

          “Hey, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen you! How are you?”

 

           It took him a moment to recognize his voice, but that didn’t stop a casual smile from gracing his face. His mask was always on, even for surprises. Taro was standing a few feet away from him, carrying a stack of boxes. It took a few moments for the image to click with it’s meaning. In that moment the young man realized that Ran was far from the only person in a precarious position.  Inside several cogs were dropping into place for Aoba. The first was the frankly absurd greeting that the older male just gave him, considering that they met yesterday. _Is he really that awkward?*_

 

           “Yeah it’s a nice surprise to see you! Do you live around here?” He asked and the other male nodded, expression bright. Most likely relieved that his social lapse hadn’t pushed Aoba away. But only because the younger male wanted to gather more information.

 

           “Yeah only a few doors down. I’m living with Masaomi for a few weeks.”

           “ _Masaomi?”*_

           “Kida?” Taro supplied helpfully, his relieved smile still intact and recognition hit.

 

 _Well that had been a close call._ He acknowledged, as he nodded towards the other man.

           “Well it was nice seeing you again,” He said casually as he entered his home. He wasn’t particularly interested in Taro as long as he hadn’t seen anything. The two people that Aoba was the most concerned about by far was Ran and “Masaomi”. If anything, those two posed the most danger to him. He mulled over this as he idly finished his homework, not interested in falling behind.

 

           “Aoba, do you have a friend to drive you home?” His mom’s voice cut through his thoughts and he blinked up at her.

           “Hmm? I think I could find someone willing to. I’m fine riding my bike back though, really it isn’t-”

           “No, that’s not what I’m worried about.”

 

            For the first time he actually looked at her face. _She’s worried._ Now he was attentive, his eyes carefully scanning over his mother’s face.

           “There was another arson last night and they found a body.”

_A body?_

 

             A rare genuine feeling washed over his features as he stared up at his mom.

_What?_

_How?_

            “This is the first time that a body has been found in any of those buildings. But with the missing people from the surrounding areas, the police think that people should be more careful. So far, most of the missing people have been college students. Can you please tell me that you’ll have someone ride you home?”

 

            “Yes, of course.” The words left his mouth without consideration as he tried to process this.

 

_Did I make a mistake?*_

           No, impossible. Aoba wasn’t Neko, or Ran, he rarely made mistakes. Especially ones so sloppy.  And it clearly wasn’t the work of Ran.

 

 _If_   Ran had found out about Aoba’s ‘activities,’ he would have rubbed it in his face before he acted. He would never claim that his brother was a friend, but he did know him. This was someone else. A new face came to mind, and suddenly his perspective changed abruptly. It was Taro.

 

           Taro Tanaka.

 


	2. Solitaire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Aoba learns the meaning of the term "Worthy opponent". And Mikado is more than mildly interested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *drops this and runs away*

         “Why did you want us to come here again?” Masaomi asked as they continued to trek through the woods.They had driven to several locations throughout the day, their journey spurred by Mikado's impulses. Masaomi was tired, and to be fair, Mikado could recognize why. They had planned this trip only a few hours ago, and had driven more than the blonde had anticipated. Mikado didn’t make a habit out of sudden trips but he needed this. It had been nearly a month since his most recent victim, and he could feel the effects. It showed up in the things he noticed about other people. Like if they were strong, fragile, lost, or competent; If a punch to the face would make them compliant, or if it’d take a knife to the throat.

        Inside, he epitomized emotional turbulence, but on the outside he remained Mikado Ryuugamine. Or Taro Tanaka, the alias that Masaomi had pushed for him to take on. Hours ago, the sound of keys being pushed could be heard throughout Masaomi’s room. To the detective, the behavior had come off as typical Mikado-esque neuroticism. He had no idea that his friend was just frantically searching for a distraction. Because not only had his last murder been long ago, it hadn’t even been cathartic. Petty criminals didn’t do much for him, regardless of how necessary the death was.

 

        He reminded himself that he was closer to his actual target now, but he still felt unsatisfied., and subsequently, frustrated. _But that’s why I have other hobbies._ His feelings changed after they arrived at their first location, a mountain rumored to be haunted. After a few minutes of climbing through it with Masaomi, he felt much more relaxed. However, now they were at their third location, Masaomi’s enthusiasm was more than half gone.

 

         “We’re seeing if the urban legend is true.” Mikado reminded Masaomi, eyes drawn to the other male’s hand. The scarred flesh gleamed in the moonlight and he covered Kida’s hand with his own. Masaomi intertwined their fingers as he said casually,

         “There isn’t something else you want to do?”

         “What do you mean? You aren’t having fun?” Mikado asked, disappointed in his friend’s lack of investment in their activities. This was one of his favorite things to do. Granted, chances were that he would die before he found someone or something supernatural. But that didn’t mean that he had to stop trying.

 

         “There are no girls, no drinks, no food, how are _you_ having fun?”

 _Oh that’s his issue?_ Mikado rolled his eyes and turned to look at his friend.

         “Do you know how many people have been abducted from here? Nearly -”

         “‘Abducted’.” Masaomi interjected, using his fingers for fake quotes.

         “Five people abducted by aliens!”

         “You forgot the word ‘claimed’!” Masaomi pointed out, as he removed the map from Mikado’s hands, and folded it up.

 

        “Well, I mean, how do we prove that? That courts don’t usually take those types of cases--” The darker haired male began, as he tried to snatch it back.

        “I’m just saying, you’re leaving in what? A week and a half? There aren’t better things to do with our time?”

        “Well….I mean…” Mikado stumbled and Masaomi kissed him. When he pulled back, his expression was one of concern.

        “Mikado, are you ok? Are you scared to stay in my house?” Masaomi asked, and it took a few moments for it to click with Mikado.

        “No!” he said immediately, internally cursing himself for not anticipating this.

        “I’m not afraid of the Blue Squares, honestly gangs don’t really scare me that much. I mean telling everyone that my name is Taro is kind of strange but-” He stammered quickly.

        “Has anyone threatened you?”

        “No, it was just nervous energy. I still have a lot to do, and that can sometimes put me on edge.” Mikado added, falling into a very familiar song and dance.

 

         The other man sighed in audible relief.

 

       Mikado had long ago acquired the skill of lying to Masaomi easily, but sometimes it became taxing. Because he wanted to tell him the truth, things would be so much easier that way. But Mikado wasn’t a fool. An image of Masaomi’s neighbor appeared in his mind as he tugged Masaomi closer. _Am I the only one who knows what you do?_ Masaomi certainly didn’t. Soon another image came to mind, one of the Aoba being beaten by his elder brother. When he initially observed the beating, he’d felt a mixture of boredom and intrigue.

 

       Not much had changed.

 

      “So that guy you told me to stay away from--”

      “Ran Izumii--”

      “Is he really that dangerous? He’s around our age right?”

      “He’s a sadistic monster that you need to stay the fuck away from. I’m serious Mikado. He’s like-nevermind.” Masaomi muttered, but Mikado’s internally finished it for him. _Like Izaya._

      “What about his brother? Are they both dangerous? That kid looked like he was still in highschool.” Mikado observed and Masaomi frowned.

      “I don’t know much about Aoba except that he attends Ran’s activities, despite being a model student according to his mom. Why are you asking about this? Did you-”

      “Oh I was just curious.” Mikado interrupted as he traced circles into Masaomi’s palm.

      “Let’s go back to your place.”

* * *

 

The next day after Mikado got back from work, he was approached by an older woman outside of Masaomi’s apartment.

 

      “Can I help you?” He asked as he walked closer, assuming that she’d been lost.

      “Oh! Are you Taro Tanaka?”

      “Yes, have we met before?” She certainly didn’t look familiar.

      “No, but you’ve met my son. He wants to know if you still need help moving in. Apparently you two spoke about it the day before yesterday?” She offered and Mikado paused.

 

Well, he was a bold one.

* * *

 

 

      “Hey, thanks for offering to help!”

 

      Taro was awfully chatty for a serial killer. Unless his discovery was simply a terribly unfortunate coincidence. The fact that he was able to step into Masaomi Kida’s home was a miracle in itself. Kida hadn’t said a word as he disappeared into the basement with Taro’s boxes. Aoba wanted to know if Kida knew what his best friend was. Due to Kida’s refusal to be bought by either the Awakusu or Heaven’s slave, he doubted it.

      “Oh, I’m happy to help!” He said as he carried the box upstairs. The past few hours had been anything but productive. He briefly wondered how Kida felt about Aoba being in their home. Their last meeting hadn’t been the most pleasant.

      “Have you and Kida been planning this for awhile?” He called downstairs to Taro as he entered the hall.

      “Only a few months really! I’m not going to be staying all that long to be honest,” Taro responded immediately. His voice became clearer as he reached the top of the stairs, humming quietly. He set down the box in front of Aoba and smiled.

      “I’m leaving in a few weeks at most. I’m only bringing my stuff all here because my new apartment isn’t very far from here. And storage is kind of expensive.”

      “Where are you moving to?” he asked and Mikado smiled.

 

      As he placed Taro’s box onto the ground, he considered outright asking him if he was a murderer. If only to analyze his response. He took in the room around him, noticing the several unpacked boxes and the implied lack of use. Had he spent the night on the couch? Just how close was their friendship? Aoba wasn’t interested in interacting with Taro more than need be, despite his subtle fascination with him. But he wasn’t a fool, he knew a weakness when he saw it. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of lowered voices. Kida and Taro’s. The conversation soon ended and subsequently followed by the sound of someone leaving.

 

      Aoba casually made his way downstairs. Taro had moved into the living room, and was drinking a cup of tea. He immediately noticed the second cup and moved towards it.

 

      “Did Kida leave?” He asked Taro. The other man nodded and placed the cup on the table.  “Yeah, Masaomi had some stuff to finish. He’ll be back soon though.” Taro responded and smiled. It was a calmer smile than the one he’d given him before. Friendly but reserved, and somehow at peace, serene. Aoba briefly wondered if his fake smiles were that impressive. Or if they ever would be.

      “How much did you see?” He asked finally.

      “So you did see the news? I saw enough, I guess.” Taro responded

      “You thought I wouldn’t see it?”

      “I thought that there was a chance you wouldn’t.” Taro clarified and Aoba couldn’t help but smirk just slightly. As if he could’ve gone long without hearing about what Taro had done. That kind of ignorance about small towns was, to some extent, comical.

      “Did you have a backup plan for if I didn’t respond?” Aoba asked, moving on and Taro appeared pensive.

      “The same thing. I scouted other buildings that you’d be interested in.” He admitted, somewhat reluctantly and Aoba raised an eyebrow. _How would you even know that?_ Had he been followed? Generally he did a good job making sure that no one was tailing him. _Or I only thought I did a good job._ He was becoming rapidly disinterested in small talk with Taro. He just wanted answers to his questions. Still, his next question wasn’t _Have you been stalking me_ or _did you take pictures._

 

      “What do you want?” He finally asked and Taro looked pensive again.

      “I just wanted to find someone to discuss this with. A, I don’t really know--”

      “A friend? Don’t you already have one? Kida isn’t keen on talking to you about it? Did he refer to you to a rehabilitation center for compulsive stabbers?” Aoba asked rapidly. He fired question after question at him, wanting to drive him on the defensive. Taro looked mildly surprised, his eyes even widened slightly.

      “I don’t like to use knives.” Taro responded quietly.

      “What do you like to use?”

      “I don’t want to talk about it.”

      “I thought you wanted us to be friends? Friends talk about things.” He said sweetly, leaning onto the table. He noted how it wasn’t particularly wide, more long than anything. The distance between them was negligible. His discomfort was long gone as he easily slid back into a role he was very familiar with. The one with all the power. That is, until, he noticed that Taro’s facial expressions didn’t match his body language. His eyes were downcast, yes, but his body wasn’t hunched in on itself. It soon became clear that he had discovered this trap too late.

 

      “Okay then,” And suddenly there’s a finger pressed to the bruised area around his eye. To Aoba’s credit, he didn’t even wince, and somehow managed to hide his shock. It was clear that Mikado was trying to break through his facade.

 

     “What happened to your face?” Taro asked.

     “An accident.” he said easily.

     “You accidentally bruised your face?”

     “Yes.” he answered and the finger became more insistent.

     “How?”

     “I fell.”

     “Those are some big bruises for a fall. Especially for a face.” Taro mused. Aoba flinched as Taro’s hand closed around his arm. His eyes widened slightly as he realized his mistake. But Taro’s expression did not change, there was no smile, no telltale glint in his eyes. No, he maintained the same unblinkingly, focused expression he’d had since the beginning. And it was starting to become unnerving. Those blue eyes stared at him, and they reminded him of Ran’s. The way his eyes would seem to exclaim, _I see you_ , whenever Aoba tried to hide his true nature.

 

    “You lie a lot.” Taro mused as he tightened his grip on Aoba’s arm. The younger male winced as pain shot up his arm.

    “Does he know?” Aoba asked, eager to change the subject. It had been a long time since he had last felt this uncomfortable. Surprise flitted over Taro’s face.   

    “Who?”

    “Kida.”

    “No. Does your mom know how much Ran hits you?”

    “I don’t know what you’re-”

    “I’ve seen it.” He said quietly, lowering his voice. Immediately after the admission, he looked more sheepish, frowning slightly. Still, he continued.

    “I followed Masaomi into the woods, even though he told me to stay back. Then I followed you to the house, and watched you set that fire. You’re responsible for the other arsons right?” He asked curiously, and continued before Aoba could respond.

    “I also watched Ran hit you afterwards. Why don’t you fight back?” He asked.. _Because I wouldn’t win._ Aoba thought as he pulled away from him and Taro released his arm. For a moment he just stared at the enigma that sat across from him. Taro’s expression wasn’t mocking, or malicious, instead it held an intense focus.This wasn’t like Ran’s moments where he used him as a punching bag. Nor his attempts to literally beat the truth out of him.

 

        He felt like a specimen on a dissection table.  It was clear that this entire interaction was nothing more than a ploy _to pull things out of him._  The fact that Aoba had intended to do the same thing only made this ‘discussion’ even more infuriating. This situation had suddenly spiralled even further out of his control. That brief moment when he thought he’d had the upper hand had been an illusion. _Better luck next time._ He chided himself as he swallowed down his building rage.

 

       “I should head back,” he said quietly as he rose from his seat.

       “You’re good at lying.” Taro offered and Aoba didn’t respond. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had confronted him so directly.

 

       “I don’t think the police have any idea that you’re involved in this. It’s really impressive, considering how heavily involved you are with the Blue Squares. Then again, the cops by and large just dismiss you as a foot soldier, even Masaomi.” Taro continued as he lounged back in his seat.

       “I wanted to ask him more questions about you, but I didn’t want him to put two and two together-”

       “So how long do you think it will take him to discover your more ‘clandestine’ activities?” It would be smarter to just shut up and listen. Try to discover just how much he even knows. But Aoba felt trapped, and pushed into a corner, and _he doesn’t want to listen._ He is absolutely sure that he knows everything that is worth knowing about this man. And that’s all he cares to understand about Taro Tanaka.

 

       To his surprise, Taro remained silent for a few minutes with a thoughtful expression on his face. Aoba watched him with a growing scowl, not bothering to hide his reactions anymore. Their silence was interrupted by the sound of an opening door. Masaomi Kida entered the room and Aoba immediately smoothed his features back into a polite smile.

 

       “Well that took longer than I expected. Seriously, some work days are way too long.” he whined as he slowed to a stop close to Taro.

       “I mean, _it is_ a day job. The expectation is that you stay until your work is finished.”  Taro quipped as he turned around in his chair to face Kida.

       “Aren’t you supposed to take my side in this?”

       “Enabling your bad habits isn’t what I’d call being a good friend.” Taro said evenly.

 

       And as Aoba watched them, he noticed certain things. Certain things that began to add up. How close they sat to each other, the familiar way that they spoke to each other, and above all else, how Masaomi _looked_ at Taro. This wasn’t a _friendship._ And with that realization, calm washed through him like soothing warm water. Because this was a weakness, one that was bidirectional.

 

       “I think I should head back now.” Aoba said as he made his way across the room.

       “Thanks for helping, we really appreciated it.” Taro responded, his voice earnest. _You’re good at lying._ His frustration began to rise in his throat. But he only faced the two men, smiled and said,

 

       “I’m always happy to help.”

 

* * *

 

 

         Five minutes later he was in his room, thinking about the situation that had transpired. He wasn’t sure how he should proceed, or even if he should. There was a grudging respect lining his thoughts. But there was also anxiety, with a craving on it’s edge. A desire for flames, gasoline, and burnt furniture. He was tempted to steal Ran’s lighter again, but he wasn’t stupid. The entire purpose of using Ran’s lighter was to avoid implicating himself. Making an impulsive decision like that would defeat it. Abruptly his phone rung, cutting through his train of thought and upon seeing the ID, he answered it.

 

         “You’re not usually one to call.” Mairu’s voice was more comforting than it ought to be. Considering what type of person she was. _The type of person they both were._

          “I had something I thought you’d be interested in.” He said quietly but not honestly. He called because he had wanted someone to talk to, a hard fact to admit to himself. It was one that had started to become apparent when Ran had almost lost control over the Blue Squares. The attempted had been dismantled easily, but not without some injuries. Aoba had visited his brother, simultaneously feigning loyalty and out of familial obligation. During those few days, aside from his family, no one visited Ran.

 

          And, despite being reluctant to admit it, that bothered Aoba on a fundamental level. Not out of concern for his brother, but because what they could mean for him. That wasn’t the kind of life he wanted to have. He had befriended the twins shortly after.

         “Well, what are you waiting for?” Mairu whined.

         “Spill.” Kururi added quietly and he considered it. After all, there was no reason to keep everything a secret, was there? He was starting to feel the strain of his self-imposed isolation.

 

Aoba opened his mouth, and allowed the half lies to leave freely.


	3. Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Mikado suffers from withdrawal and Aoba struggles with his own impulses. External enemies approach from the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That moment when you're halfway through writing a chapter and the phrase: "psychological masochism" comes to mind.

  “You think that he likes me?”

 

The words left Aoba’s mouth the moment they entered his head. Across from him sat Kururi, comfortably seated on Mairu’s bed, while he sat on the floor. Her sister was sprawled out in his lap.

 

  “Approximately.”

  “Of course! Everything you mentioned, baiting you, leaving you that sign, he’s trying to get your attention.” Mairu insisted as Aoba idly played with a strand of her hair.

  “So, he’s trying to get me to like him. Fascinating.” Aoba said dryly.

  “You’re wrong.” Kururi answered, her vague answer translating to _that’s not what he’s doing,_ as her sister cackled from his lap.

  “He doesn’t need you to like him! This is a bid for attention,”

  “ _All publicity is good publicity?_ ” The English phrase felt strange in his mouth but somehow accurate.

  “Affirmative.” Kururi confirmed and Mairu nodded in agreement.

  


   Concerning the information that he has about Taro Tanaka, Aoba hasn’t told them much. They know that Taro had seen Aoba in a compromising position. That he had confronted the younger male about it. And that their first actual conversation had been far from comfortable, but he withheld how downright invasive it had been. Anger rose within him, but he kept his expression neutral as he started to play with Kururi’s hair.

 

    It was really only recently that he had been able to come to terms with how much he enjoyed being here. He remembered when he received his first kiss here, years ago. It had been a lazy exploration of Aoba’s not-quite-latent curiosity about the opposite sex, and their relationship hadn’t progressed past friendship. But the moments he valued still remained, Mairu in his lap, Kururi pressed against him like it was nothing. Lazy, content, boring--- _vulnerable----_ was the word he was looking for but would never say. Although Aoba wasn’t going to abandon his pursuit of power-not when he was this close-he wasn’t blind to what it cost him. He was constantly alert, suspicious, analyzing, plotting, _clawing_ , and his resultant exhaustion was inevitable.

 

_But._

 

_I’m not Ran._

 

    It was a truth that he both reveled in, and often analyzed. One of the most striking things about his brother was neither his overall inefficiency, or propensity to violence. But how utterly alone he was. The incredibly little loyalists that Ran had in the Blue Squares was a striking fact. It was one that made him feel somewhat cold as he processed it. Not because of sympathy or compassion, but because of how easily the same could happen to him. Ran was _alone_. And Aoba had no desire to be the same.

 

    He thought back to how he had mocked Taro for something so similar. _‘A friend? Don’t you already have one?’_ Aoba wondered how lonely Taro was, although frankly, he didn’t exactly care. The exchange had happened a mere two days ago, and he hadn’t spoken to the other man since.

  


    What remained unsettling wasn’t how easily Taro had managed to tear through his surface defenses. It was that there was an urge that was gradually becoming stronger each day, the urge to _go back._ It had only been a few hours ago when a painful realization became _incredibly_ apparent. Their interaction had been unpleasant. Taro had found his way under Aoba’s skin, made him feel vulnerable, exposed and _he liked it._

 

    His masochism wasn’t not new.

 

    He had discovered it when he was a teenager, when Kururi’s and Mairui’s ability to unnerve him made him gravitate towards them more. But generally, it didn’t pull him towards someone _dangerous_ , and Taro Tanaka definitely was. _This has a quick fix. An easy one._

He told himself as he tuned out Mairu. She had started to tell him about how eerily this reminded her of a show, or a book, or _something----_ that did not matter.

 

    What did matter was what his next move would be. His thought process was interrupted as Mairu sat up in his lap, and wrapped her arms around his neck. He flushed as she moved closer, and he moved _away,_ flustered.

 

   “ _Mairu-”_

   “Aoba, when was the last time we hung out?” She asked curiously, eyes big and face close. He flushes despite himself, fingers gripping the carpet.

   “Um, six months ago? Can you not get so close? It’s distracting.” Aoba said as he leaned back onto his hands.

   “We should hang out tomorrow.”

   “Don’t you have to house your sociopathic brother for the next few days?”

   “We don’t _have_ to do anything.” Mairu specified as Aoba covered her hand with his own, smiling.

   “We’ll hang out in a few days,” he responded.

   “I promise.”

 

* * *

 

 

    Masaomi was astutely aware of Mikado’s erratic behavior. Specifically, how in the span of two hours, Mikado had changed position at least six times. First, he had laid in bed like a normal person, bundled in covers sans arms, with laptop on his lap. Then thirty minutes later, he had been upside down. Fifteen minutes later, he was sideways, then cue consecutive position changes.

 

     Masaomi didn’t even need to look to know that their wastebasket was filled with discarded junk food wrappers. In fact, he would be willing to bet that his _not boyfriend_ hadn’t eaten a full meal _yet._

    “Mikado, there’s a new American fast food place only a few miles away! Do you want me to bring you something from there?” Masaomi said brightly as he stuck his head inside of the room. His hand rested on the doorframe as he watched Mikado. His friend had remained in position no.6, back leaning dangerously off the edge of the bed, eyes fixed on his computer screen.

    “No, I’m not hungry.” Was his emotionless reply. More typing.

    “Uh huh, and when was the last time you ate? An actual meal I mean?”

    “Yesterday? But really I’m fine-”

    “I’ll pick you up something after I come back from work tonight. There are also leftovers in the fridge.” he reminded him and Mikado frowned.

    “I thought you were off tonight?”

    “There was a schedule conflict, and Matsuda asked me if I could switch shifts with him. So I did.” Masaomi answered casually and Mikado’s fingers stopped. His gaze drifted to Masaomi’s scar briefly as he cocked his head, before he turned his gaze back to the computer.

 

Then the sound of typing resumed again.

    “That’s fine.”

 

* * *

 

     It was not fine.

  


     There were a few words and phrases that automatically grabbed Mikado’s attention, and ‘shift switching’ was one of them. Mikado had spent his entire day in a state of anxiety, ever increasing frustration, and a feeling that could be akin to _starving._ It had been far too long since he had last killed someone, and he could feel the drawbacks. He had eaten nearly all of Masaomi’s candy bars, and exhausted almost every single listverse article on the internet. Frankly, no amount of articles written on ghosts, ghouls, or monsters could stave off this craving.

 

     Idly, his mind made its way back to Masaomi’s neighbor. It focused on the arsonist that was a member of the gang that was terrorizing the area with drug trafficking. Mikado himself didn’t have much of an interest in trade. It seemed boring at best and restricting at worst, neither of which was worth putting himself at risk. _Why switch one boring existence for another, more dangerous, and an equally boring one?_ He wondered if it was fulfilling to Aoba, if there was more going on than just a drug trade. _This would be much easier if I had a better grasp on his personality,_ he internally groaned as he sat up on Masaomi’s bed.

  


     People were incredibly easy to manipulate and control once they’re understood. That was why Mikado tended to stalk his victims long-term before killing them. He liked to understand people that he found interesting, he liked knowing how they ticked. Originally, that was part of what made killing so appealing. There was just something special about understanding the inner workings of a person, before he took them apart.

 

     But that was before things had become boring, and he realized that killing was more fulfilling when the consequences reached much farther than the immediate group of people affected. His current target was entering town tonight, if the texts Mikado had intercepted were to be believed. He flexed his fingers and bit his lip as he considered killing him tonight. _It would make the rest of the week so much easier._ He reminded himself as wondered how much longer he was willing to go.

 

     Masaomi had noticed the dent in his performance, and it would only be a matter of time before things got worse. His lack-of-killing induced withdrawal was only going to make things worse. But he couldn’t afford to act rashly either. Still, maintaining his mask of normalcy was becoming  harder.It was times like this that he seriously considered contacting Izaya. Despite there being a very good reason for why Mikado had withdrawn contact in the first place. _It isn’t a good idea._ He reminded himself as he scrolled past Orihara’s number. It was harder than it should’ve been, because despite the many disadvantages of being in Izaya’s company…..he was _fun._ And if there was anything that Mikado desperately craved at the moment, it was that.

 

     Even during their worst days, their relationship had always been something exciting. But now…..

     He had almost left, twice, to take a long drive and kill the first stranger he had found. _Thankfully,_ he wasn’t as impulsive now as he had been as a teenager, but still this was---

 

     Frustrating, not to mention incredibly disorienting. It was enough that he’d opted against following Shijima to his meeting tonight. He was afraid of impulsively killing him, and being too sloppy to clean it up properly.

 

     He had been about to leave to explore some of the allegedly haunted places in Masaomi’s city, when his friend approached him. With statements that included ‘shift changes.’  Masaomi had a nearly incredibly talent for detecting corruption in the justice system. But that talent did not extend to dismantling that corruption in a subtle way. The problem was namely that Masaomi was good at destroying them from the inside out, and had gathered a reputation.

 

     A reputation that warranted assassination attempts. As Mikado waved off his friend’s attempts to communicate with him, he focused his attention on something more _innovative._ Namely, malware to hack into the computer of the detective that Masaomi had switched shifts with. _And every single other person he’s ever contacted on his computer._ Albeit, it would be going a bit too far, Mikado was well aware of that. There were few lengths he was unwilling to go to protect Masaomi. His profession in tech had given him numerous benefits, being able to travel often was one of them. But they also gave him multiple opportunities to grow some of his more criminally inclined skills. Hacking into phones had proven to be a very useful skill. It was how he knew about Shijima’s meeting tonight

  


    “Masaomi?” He called and his friend reentered the room.

    “Yes?”

    “What was your coworker’s name again?”

  


* * *

 

 

     Higa was pathetic.

 

      This wasn’t a new development, but it was one that was becoming increasingly _tedious._  Still, Aoba kept his expression neutral as he watched the man’s discussion with Ran continue. Although ‘discussion’ was a more generous description of the meltdown that was occurring. Higa generally disliked cops as a rule, but something about Masaomi well. That dislike had escalated to hatred rather quickly.

 

       Personally, Aoba was indifferent to Kida, problems he caused aside. Kida’s enigmatic roommate however, was someone that Aoba was wary of. He shivered in the cold, pulling his coat closer as he wondered frankly _why they chose to have this meeting in the woods again._ There were better, safer, quieter and _warmer_ places to discuss murdering a cop. Still, Aoba would be lying if he claimed that he was _disinterested_ in the idea.

 

       But more to see how Tanaka would react than anything else. _He’s a serial killer, did he really come here just to see Masaomi? Or is he after someone?_ Aoba reasoned that it was more likely to either be the latter, or a combination of both.  Voices rose, and Aoba blinked a little somewhat surprised. _Focus._ He reminded himself distantly, as he leaned back on his hands and stared at the two men. He had tuned out most of the discussion, mind preoccupied with other matters. Such as achieving his goal to usurp Ran, and...Taro Tanaka.

 

   _Fuck._

 

     “Kida’s a fucking issue. How long are we stuck with him?” Higa demanded, his voice cutting through Aoba’s thoughts and the younger man shrugged.

     “Until he’s transferred to another division, or he’s dealt with.” Aoba said dryly.

     “And when will we do that?” He asked irritably.

     “Do what? I can’t control whether he’s transferred to another division or not,” He said innocently and Higa advanced.

     “You little _—_ ”

     “Don’t play that bastard’s games.” Ran said and Aoba grinned as he played with his phone.

     “No one said that you couldn’t go after him, HiIga-san.” He purred, looking into the other man’s eyes.

 

      Perhaps he didn’t feel particularly inclined to kill Kida, but all the same….. this was a good opportunity to get Higa to do something stupid enough to get arrested. _Like kill a cop._ A silence descended upon the ground, no one spoke. The only sound was the noise that came from Aoba’s mobile game.

 

“Unless of course, you doubt your own capabilities in that department?” He quipped and Higa _moved._

 

     Aoba shifted to the side, fist grazing his cheek as he took Higa’s arm, and promptly tossed him. The larger man flew over Aoba’s head, as Aoba pivoted on his heel, fists raised. His heart pounded in his chest as the adrenaline spread throughout his body. Maybe this was what he needed.

 

A fight.

 

       “Is this really how the Blue Squares does business?” A familiar soft voice said and Aoba scowled. _Such perfect timing._ Aoba’s expression morphed into a pleasant smile as he turned to face Shijima.

       “Just working off some steam. How are you doing by the way?” he asked as he pressed a tissue to his cheek to dot away the blood that had formed. Belatedly, he noted that Higa would pay for that as he took in their main supplier. Their point man. The second in command of Heaven’s Slave.

 

A mess, frankly.

 

       “Better now that I have a show.” The drug dealer said conversationally as he took everyone in.

       “So I was informed that we had a problem?”

       “Higa has concerns about a police officer in the area. One that has shown a great amount of interest in our activities. It worries him.” Aoba said plainly, not flinching under the weight of Higa’s angry gaze. Shijima smirked as his eyes moved to Higa.

       “Is he a captain?”

       “No.”

       “Lieutenant?”

       “No, just a detective.”

       “Do we have enough connections?”

       “ _Easily.”_ Aoba answered, face behind his phone once again. Goading really, as he played into the trait that most made Shijima undesirable. His arrogance. Arrogance wasn’t something that Aoba necessarily hated, in fact it made people easier to control. But it was a trait he preferred for the leader of a small gang, instead of a multilayered organization. _It’s unstable._ It was why the thought of the Blue Squares operating under the Awakusu was becoming increasingly appealing to him.

       “Then what are you waiting for? Fix it.” Shijima asked dryly as he removed the product from his pockets. “Anything else that we need to iron out?” He asked and Ran stepped in front of Aoba.

       “We have a shit that lost product.” Ran informed Shijima and the older man’s eyes narrowed in irritation.

       “The same shit? Has he been taken care of?”

       “Not permanently, not yet, but it’s being thoroughly considered.” Ran informed Shijima, who only shrugged.

       “If he fucks up again, settle him, permanently.” Shijima said dismissively.

       “Now, let’s get down to business.”

  


      The meeting wrapped up shortly after, Aoba and the other members going their own separate ways. _That was….more satisfying than I predicted._ Cut cheek aside, Higa was heading down a path of self destruction. _Now I only have to focus on Ran—_

 

_Tanaka._

 

        The thought passed through his mind as he approached his own home, close to passing Kida’s. _Nothing good can come of this. Keep going._ His fingers twitched towards the lighter in his pocket. When was the last time he burned something? Nearly a week? _Wait a bit longer._ The intervals between his fires were becoming gradually smaller. And complete self destruction was something he was decidedly disinterested in, masochism aside. Some part of him wanted to _hurt,_ but no part of him wanted to _crumble. Is there a way to indulge in this, without giving him means to destroy me?_

 

        “Aoba-san, aren’t you cold?  Your jacket is kind of thin for this weather.” The casual voice broke him out of his reverie. He came back to himself in pieces, as he realized two things. That his hand was gripping Ran’s lighter tightly, and that at some time, he had stopped moving. He forced his shoulders to fall as he turned to face his neighbor.

       “I’m fine, Tanaka.” He said distantly, as the older man approached him.

       “There are still some boxes to unpack, some help would be nice. Provided that you don’t mind that is.” Tanaka informed him, and Aoba recognized the statement for what it was. An invitation. For a moment, he just stared at him, unsure of how to respond. Especially because he hadn’t even answered his own question.

       “Is everything okay?” Taro asked, stopping just right out of his space. Aoba idly wondered how his neighbors would react to the sight of him crowding a college student. _Do they know about him and Masaomi?_

 

        “I’m fine,” He says quietly, lifting his head and finally making eye contact with Tanaka. _This isn’t hard._ He reminds himself, as calm starts to spread through him. _The situation isn’t actually that complicated. I can enter, talk to him to gather more information, then leave. And if I want to come back after that, I will._

        “I’ll help you, but I can’t stay for long.”

  
  


         “Are you hungry? I have some snacks in the kitchen,” Mikado informed Aoba as he silently followed him deeper into Masaomi’s apartment.

         “No thanks,” Aoba answered quietly, and Mikado turned at the sound of something dropping. Aoba had emptied out his pockets on the floor, his phone, charger and pens currently covered the floor. Silently, he stripped off his jacket and also dropped it to the floor.

         “Uh, what are you doing?” Mikado asks plainly, and Aoba smiled.

         “I’m assuring you of my trustworthiness before I ask you some critical questions.  Are you in the mood to answer any of them?”

 

_What are you up to, Aoba?_

         “Well, hmm, that depends….what kind of questions are you going to ask me?” Mikado asked plainly, lingering in the doorway. Despite his caution, excitement had begun to build within him. Because this was _interesting,_ and it could even become _fun,_ if things went well. And Mikado was becoming exasperated with the repetitive nature of his stay with Masaomi. The repetitive nature of his life.

        “Are you really a serial killer?”

 

Outside, rain had started to fall, and winds were rising.

 

_Where are you going with this?_

        “Yes.” he responded and the kid’s grin didn’t even waver. Idly he wondered if it were possible to make Aoba’s facade crack, to surprise him. _It is,_ He reminds himself as the memory of their last meeting makes itself known. _Invade his space, make observations on his character that he expects me to miss….._ Mikado tallied them in his head as he stretched out on Masaomi’s couch. Aoba remained standing, and neither increased nor decreased the distance between them.

 _Can I do it again? Maybe tonight?_ Mikado watched him, attempting to locate telltale signs of anxiety. He couldn’t monitor his breathing from this far away, and his body language seemed relatively relaxed. _It’s confidence, but is it real confidence?_

“Why did you come here?”

       “Masaomi asked me to come.” Mikado answered simply.

       “Yes but that’s not your only reason for coming, right? You’re after someone.” He concluded, frowning now. “I know you are, I just want to know who it is you’re after?”

       “No one that concerns you.” Mikado responded calmly, and Aoba began to scowl.

       “Why did you move the corpse to that building?”

       “I already planned to do that. It seemed like the perfect holding place at the time. The fact that you had already started a fire was a bonus.” He added, and smiled at Aoba.  “Then it became a way to say hi.”

       “You could’ve also just said hi,” Aoba pointed,

       “And you would’ve used that as leverage right?” Mikado cut him off, maintaining his smile.  “I wasn’t sure before, because I didn’t know much about you. But you are an arsonist right? So that didn’t exactly make it likely that you followed any kind of code, or social rules.” Mikado continued, and made eye contact with the other man.

      “But now that I do know you, I’m sure that you would’ve hung it over me. So I’m glad that I took an extra precaution.” He admitted. Aoba’s smile had frozen, and for one pure moment, Mikado could see the rage that burned in his eyes. Then it was gone.

      “I don’t think that you know how to make friends _sempai._ ” Aoba said sweetly as the rainfall became heavier.

      “Are you sure? It seems like it worked, at the very least it allowed me to talk to you alone. Twice at that.” Mikado said casually and watched as the corners of Aoba’s mouth began to twitch. He idly wondered if he could break the other man’s entire facade right then and there.

      “Are you alright Aoba? You look upset, angry even. When is the last time you’ve burned something?” He asked, eyes on the now strained smile.

      “I get…...nervous energy when I haven’t killed someone in awhile. Sometimes irritable. It looks like we have that in common.” Mikado informed him as the rain began to downpour. He got up, and walked to the window, brushing past Aoba.

      “You know, I really hate people that are like me. That being said, Taro Tanaka, I don’t think that we have that much in common.” He informed Mikado, as the elder closed the living room window.

      “You don’t think we are?” He asked as he turned back to the younger male, who hadn’t moved. Aoba shook his head, smile smaller now, but much more authentic.

      “Not in the slightest.” Aoba said confidently

      “You made such a big risk to reach out to a stranger. I would have never done something like that, we may both be…..criminals, but that’s where our similarities end.” Aoba finished and Mikado walked forward, easily stepping into Aoba’s space.

      “Is that so? I don’t agree with you, but it is an interesting thought.” He conceded, as he noted the other man’s breathing. Standard, easy inhales and exhales. This confidence was real. A loud noise sliced through their silence as the rainfall became harder. Mikado turned to the source, before he identified it. _Thunder._ With a sigh, he turned back to face Aoba and realized that the other man had gotten closer. _Much closer._ His foot was strategically placed between Mikado’s feet, as he leaned in, nose grazing Mikado’s own.

 

Mikado’s face felt _hot,_ his own breathing heavy for the first time in this conversation. And Aoba’s pleasant smile became predatory in an instant, but when he spoke, his voice was _sweet._

 

     “Taro-sempai, do you like me?” He asked, lips hovering over Mikado’s own and the elder man’s breath caught in his throat. Experimentally, he grabbed the other man’s shoulders, unsure if he wanted to push him away or bring him closer. The sound of a door being unlocked reached them and Aoba stepped away, pleasant smile maintained as he faced Masaomi.

     “Hey, did I miss a party,” The blonde asked as he took in the sight of the two of them with a wavering smile.

     “No, I was just leaving.” Aoba responded as he picked up the things he’d previously dropped on the floor.

     “I’m glad that I stopped by though, it was _fun_.” He said with his first genuine smile as he walked to the front door.

     “Have a nice night,” He told them as he left. Masaomi turned to Mikado with a questioning expression as Mikado tried to make himself think again.

     “We were talking about class, Aoba’s a math major, just like I was during my first two years.” Mikado reminded him quickly, as he forced his gaze away from the door.

 

 _That was a good play._ He thought to himself as Kida nodded in understanding,

     “Right, nerd stuff. I got you food. Are you hungry?” He asked and Mikado nodded noncommittally, forcing his mind away from Aoba.

     “Yeah, let’s eat. How was work?” Mikado prompted and tuned out once Masaomi started talking. His mind distracted by the arsonist that he let into their apartment, that saw through him easier than expected. And the unexpected jolt of excitement that it gives him. As he acknowledges that instead of a companion, Aoba could be an adversary. And he likes the thought of that much more than he should. Because despite his fears, things aren’t stagnating, quite the opposite. _This is going to be…..so much fun._

  
  


       Aoba’s state of mind was quite similar to Mikado’s own, albeit on the other side of things. The younger male walked out of Kida’s house with sustained confidence and a newfound feeling of power. His hands grasped Ran’s lighter in his pocket as he considered making the detour he’s craved for the entire day. _But so soon?_ A building probably wouldn’t be the best form of celebration. The police were still more active since the corpse’s discovery, so something small would have to do. Idly, he played with the lighter, as he walked back towards the city. It was likely that he could find a random trashcan, debris, or _something_ easily flammable.

 

       His prediction was true: there were many garbage bins left in the city and he set the most inconspicuous one on fire. A small arson like this wasn’t much in terms of satisfaction, but it was something. Aoba didn’t feel quite as desperate as he felt before. The tension bled out of him as he watched the trash burn under the flames.

       “So, fire’s how you get your rocks off Aoba? Wish I could be surprised, but you’ve always been a little freak, haven’t you?” Higa’s voice cut through Aoba’s haze as the younger man wondered how he had followed him without being noticed.

       “Was there something that you wanted?” Aoba asked irritably as Higa grinned.

       “Nothing much really, I just wanted to know why the fuck I saw you leaving Kida’s apartment. Or should we talk about this with Ran and Shijima?” The older man asked, and Aoba’s blood went cold.

        This was going to be a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So please don't hate me for  
> 1\. Making 3 chapters of MHA fanfiction before returning to this, I'm sorry and this fic will get the love it deserves  
> 2\. For leaving on a cliffhanger(the next update won't be that long of a wait. Much less than a few months.
> 
> If you have any questions, comments, concerns, complaints(including both the relevant or irrelevant nature), drop them off either in the comments or on my tumblr!


	4. Savor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aoba makes quite the risky gamble and an old friend of Mikado's reaches out to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that this took so long to post! Chapter 5 is halfway done, so hopefully it won't take forever

         Aoba didn’t hear the following words that exited Higa’s mouth. His focus was almost entirely on how he was going to navigate this turn of events. Out of potential worst-case scenarios, this was never one that seemed particularly likely. Higa was an idiot, in what world would he be the one to catch him?

 

         “What’s the matter? Don’t have anything to say?” Higa asked mockingly as he stepped closer, briefly infringing on Aoba’s space

          “I saw you. I saw you and that bastard’s _friend,_ and everything makes sense now. When I first saw you enter Kida’s house, I thought you were a fucking mole. Now I realize that you’re just a fucking side meal.” He hissed into Aoba’s ear, and the younger male slowly shook his head. Instinctively if anything else, because despite either of their intentions…..nothing has happened. _Yet,_ his brain supplied as he roughly pushed Higa away.

          “That’s not what’s happening,” He growled and Higa punched him in the stomach. He bent over coughing as he was pushed backwards onto the cold concrete.

          “Is that what your fucking plan was? Goad me into killing Kida so that you and boyfriend could continue uninterrupted?”

_Fuck you_ , He thought as he remained bent over. Not only were Higa’s accusations incredibly far from true, but they were also _insulting_.

          “We’re not anything,”

          “Bullshit.”

          “I don’t give a fuck about Taro Tanaka and I never have.” He forced out angrily as he forced down the urge to move backwards. Higa sneered at him, flashing teeth.

          “Isn’t that fucker leaving tomorrow?” Higa asked, as Aoba returned his sneer.

          “Yeah, what of it?”

          “Pretty convenient for you that Taro Tanaka is going to leave tomorrow morning, if the intel is good enough to go by. But I’m sure you already knew that, scheming little fucker.”

 

         He _didn’t._ But what was the likelihood that Higa would believe him?

         “If there’s something you want to say, Higa, then say it.” He said and forced a smile.

          “Otherwise, shut the fuck up.”

          “Tell your brother that I won’t need his or Neko’s help for clean up. I’m going to kill both of those bastards. And you’re going to help me clean that shit up.” Higa said easily as he leered over him. The words made Aoba’s blood run cold, but he didn’t hesitate to respond. He knew an out when he saw one.

 

         “No problem.” He bit out and grinned despite the pain. He kept his panic under the surface as his gears turned. _There has to be a way out of this._ But even with that thought, an ambivalence settled in his gut. Because despite the unplanned nature of this circumstance, it could work in his favor. Taro and HiIga were the only two that knew about his arsons. Undeniably, this was a convenient way to get rid of the former. The latter could be removed at a later time, after things had been properly settled. Despite this being unexpected, this was an opportunity to neutralize Taro. If Higa had offered this ultimatum the day he and Taro had met, Aoba would’ve agreed. But now, things had changed, their dynamic had grown into something new. Something that he had more control over. Something he enjoyed.

_I don’t want him to die._

       

        That was the only thing he was sure of.

 

       “So when are you going to do this?” he asked. _I can warn Taro tonight._

       “In a few hours. I don’t want to risk missing him after all." Higa responded and Aoba swallowed down his objections. 

       "Sounds good."

* * *

  
        Mikado had never been particularly good at self restraint. That was the excuse he used as he stood inside of Shijima’s apartment on a Friday morning. The drug dealer was gone, having left nearly a half an hour ago to get breakfast. He wouldn’t be back for another hour at least.  Mikado had learned during his time scouting the other man that frankly, he only really came home to sleep. His apartment itself was conveniently placed in a quiet part of town, one with low crime.

 

        This detour had started off as something more experimental. He wanted to test if his apartment remained as easily accessible it had been a few weeks ago. But now his mind was straying from that realm, and entertaining more risky ideas. _Like waiting until Shijima returned to gut him like a fish._ Mikado sucked in a shaky breath before he forced himself to leave the apartment. After he walked about a mile to his parked car, and slid in and dialed a number with shaky fingers. He knew it was a bad idea, but still did it anyway.

 

       “An unauthorized number? I wonder who that could be.” A familiar voice teased and Mikado’s grip on the phone increased.

       “.....expecting me?” _Am I that predictable?_

      “Eventually, anyhow. After nearly a year, I was worried that you didn’t want to talk to me anymore. How’s Masaomi? I heard that you two got back together.” He could practically picture the smug expression on his face,

      “He’s fine. Who told you that?” Had he been keeping tabs on him? Or was Mikado just being paranoid again? Although, he strongly believed that paranoia was healthy when it came to Izaya Orihara. A familiar bittersweet feeling rose in his throat as he spoke to his ex- partner.

      “My sisters live close by. They can be chatty, I’m sure you remember. They mentioned one Taro Tanaka, and I thought it had to be too good to be true. It looks like I was wrong.”

      “I’m not staying very long. I just missed Masaomi—”

      “And I’m sure you missed me. Yet you never visited, and it’s hard not to wonder why. But I don’t have to guess why you’re calling, you’re bored right?” He asked and laughed at the lack of an answer from Mikado.

      “I’m enjoying myself here.”

      “Ah yes, I’ve noticed the bodies. You’ve been creating a trail for a long time now. But it’s been awhile since the last one right? Is that why you called me, need someone to talk to?” He purred and Mikado couldn’t help the smirk that formed on his lips.

      “I mean not exactly, I’m just wasting time. Why are you here Izaya?”

      “Visiting the twins.”

      “I want your real reason,” Mikado said simply. “You know that I won’t tell.” he added and was once again met with laughter from the other male.

      “I want to see how well Shijima plays in a small city when he has a big impression to make. Especially when he’s got the Blue Squares under his wing. It sounded like something worth seeing up close, in fact we’re going to be meeting in a few minutes.” Izaya informed him.

      “Oh,” Was Mikado’s only response as ice spread through him, followed by fire. Was he telling the truth? Or did he just know that this was the best way to provoke Mikado? _Are you going to get in my way?_

_“What’s wrong?”_ His tone was most definitely taunting now.

     “Nothing, why do you ask?” Mikado asked smoothly, and heard the chuckle on the other end.     “He’s your target now isn’t he?”

     “No,”

     “You have a naughty habit of lying, Mikado. Oh do you prefer that I call you Taro Tanaka? Which name suits you more these days?” He asked.

     “I already said—”

     “Relax. I’m not going to interfere with any of your games. I never do.” He assured him.

     “But what I really want to know, Mikado, is why you’re waiting so long? You’re usually done with people so much quicker. IN fact, your entire kill count has become rather contained lately. Did something happen? Has Masaomi gotten into your head? Is he home right now?”

     “No! Nothing is going on, stop-” _Trying to get into my head._ No, he was already there and hadn’t ever left. Calling him was a mistake, so why wasn’t Mikado hanging up?

     “I’m fine, Masaomi is fine, everything is fine.”

     “You don’t sound like you believe that. Which isn’t surprising, seeing as how you put yourself into a cage. Just one with nice padding. How long do you think that your relationship can last, Mikado? You can’t even kill freely around him. But with me, well I’m sure you know.” _It’s so much easier._ He finished internally after Izaya paused. _That’s why I had to end things I knew. I knew if we stayed, I’d lose myself completely._ Mikado’s _hobby_ had stopped worrying him ages ago. He enjoyed himself, but never lost a sense of who he was.

 

     But after a year with Izaya, he noticed something. That at times, the older man seemed too interested in seeing just how far Mikado could go. Those days had been exhilarating, exhausting and nearly all-consuming. And it was only after their relationship had ended, that Mikado became aware of how dangerous it had been. The amount of situations Orihara had put him in. Sometimes he even wondered if Izaya _wanted_ him to get caught. And the most frightening thing was, that at the end of the day, he sometimes wasn’t even sure who he was.

 

    “Well, it was nice talking to you. But I should get going. Masaomi is going to be back soon.” Mikado said awkwardly.

    “No he isn’t, you just don’t want to talk to me anymore. And that hurts.” Izaya said smoothly. “Regardless, I’d like it if you kept Shijima alive a little bit longer.  I want to see how badly he’ll go down in flames if left unattendedunintended.”

    “No promises.” Mikado responded shortly, and paused.

    “It was good talking to you, Izaya.” he added, then hung up and promptly threw himself back onto Masaomi’s bed. _That was a mistake._ He thought, frowning as he pulled his laptop close. _Still, what’s a few more days? Shijima can live for a few more days._ He thought as he decided to check the apps he’d installed days ago. Knowing the officer’s upcoming schedules would help him avoid being caught. As he was scrolling through their messages, Masaomi entered the room.

   “Hey, have you eaten yet?”

   “I ate three hours ago.” Mikado said distantly,

   “Are you hungry yet? I’m driving out to the city a few hours from now, but I can go early if you need me to.” Masaomi’s tone was good natured, but Mikado could pick up the hint of worry as he continued to scroll. And his body went cold as he read the most recent message. One that looked suspiciously like a plan to assassinate a cop.

 

And it was set to happen in a few days.

 

   “Actually, maybe you should.” Mikado said quickly, forcing his tone to remain steady as he tried to come up with a plan. There was no way that he could maintain his normal facade and think of a way to save Masaomi’s life.

   “I’m starting to get hungry.”

 

* * *

  


     In about an hour, Taro Tanaka would be dead. Taro Tanaka and Masaomi Kida.

     Unless of course, Aoba intervened, but did he really want to? Should he stop HiIga?

 

   “Aoba, are you okay? I’m glad that you visited me, but you don’t look the best, man.”

   “What do you mean?”

 

    He had been in Neko’s home for nearly two hours now. And he was due to meet with Higa in about ten minutes. He could have left immediately after he confirmed that Neko was at least stable. He should have left a long time ago,. But, he was delaying the inevitable.

   “You’re rarely ever distracted, but now….I don’t know, nevermind.” Neko responded, wisely choosing to drop the subject. _Do I want him to die?_

   “Do you have it Neko?” He asked, and the other man nodded, eyes averted as he handed him a gun. “What are you using this for? Is the Blue Squares going to kill someone?” Neko asked, as Aoba gripped the weapon in his palm.  

   “And this has a silencer?”

   “Yeah.”

   “......I’m giving this to Higa.” Aoba explained, and Neko frowned.

   “Why?”

  “You ask too many questions. But I might need you sometime today. When I call you, show up. I’m going to be counting on you. But for now,” Aoba began as he leaned forward.

 

  “Listen closely. And do exactly as I say.”

  


       Twenty minutes later, Aoba left Neko’s home feeling more confident than he had when he’d entered. If only a little. Higa was at their decided meeting location, only a few blocks from Kida’s home but several from a good mood. The older man scowled at the sight of Aoba as he put out his cigarette.

      “Don’t know how to keep time?” Higa taunted as Aoba extended his hand, ignoring it.

      “I thought you’d need some assistance. Their walls aren’t the thickest, and not every cop in town wants Kida dead. It has a silencer.” Aoba elaborated dryly as Higa took the gun.

      “Well you’re not useless after all. Still a fucking pain though,” He muttered as he put the gun in the holster.

      “Anything else?” Aoba asked dryly and Higa sneered.

      “Stay the fuck out of my way. I’ll call you when it’s time to clean up.”

* * *

  


     Mikado felt off.

  


    A part him argued that he was feeling off because of what happened between him and Izaya Orihara. It wasn’t an incorrect argument; talks with Orihara left him feeling unsure, lost even. They made him re-experience how the confusion he felt when this began. The night after Masaomi was attacked, and Mikado had killed his first man. That feeling of not understanding who he was, and what he wanted. _What I have with Masaomi, do I want to maintain it? Or-_

    “Am I in a cage?” he asked aloud, frowning as he ran his fingers through his hair. The doorbell raung, interrupting his train of thought as he went to answer it. He paused midstep, the email running through his mind, as he took a detour into the kitchen. _Just in case._ He thought as his hands wrapped around the knife’s handle, despite his feelings towards them. Then he opened the door. revealing a man that had to be around his age. _Maybe older._ Mikado recognized him as one of Aoba’s friends, although that was probably putting it too nicely. _Did he send him? No, he wouldn’t risk that._ Mikado’s fingers twitched, no achinged for a blade as he considered the numerous factors at play. _He could be an assassin, or legitimate friend-no._ Masaomi wouldn’t be friends with anyone connected to Ran. And even if he did have friends involved in the Blue Squares, Mikado would know. Fragmented thoughts and feelings passed through him, such as the urge to call Masaomi. But under that urge laid a more insidious desire.

 

    A desire to kill.

 

   Mikado _wanted_ Higa to be an assassin, because it had been so long since he’d killed someone. _Focus. Focus._

 

   “Um, are you looking for Masaomi? He left a bit ago, but he shouldn’t be long.” Mikado informed him as he let the man inside. Higa grinned at him as “Not particularly. I just needed some eggs, but if you could tell me when he’d be back, that’d be great.” Higa told him.

   “That’s fine.” Mikado responded distantly as he let Higa step in front of him. _Be careful. Linger in the back._

   “They’re up front. You can grab them yourself.” He added, urging the stranger to walk ahead. Higa nodded and walked into the kitchen, albeit visible hesitation. _He knows what I’m doing._ Higa opened the door and bent down.

   “I can’t see any, do you mind taking a look?” he said after a few moments. Mikado took a hesitant step inside. This felt eerily like a game, and Mikado wasn’t sure if it was one he wanted to play.

   “Are you—” His sentence died on his lips when the other man drew a weapon. _A gun._ Not even a moment after his gun was drawn, the trigger was pulled.

  


     And nothing happened.

 

      Angrily, Higa pulled the trigger again, and again, and again. And after the third time, realizing what happened, Mikado quietly closed the kitchen door. As an incredibly familiar emotion became apparent within him. Bloodlust.

     “Is something wrong?” Mikado asked innocuously as he took a tentative step forwards. Higa shrunk away and the other man’s hand made his way into his pocket. _A phone._ Mikado realized. _Backup?_ Higa swung at Mikado with the gun when he got too close, forcing the smaller man to keep his distance. _For now._

     “Stay the fuck away,” Higa snapped as he reached into his pocket. He began to dial a phone number just as Mikado advanced.

     “I said stay the fuck away!” He swung again and Mikado made his move. He trapped Higa’s arm, and twisted pushing the other man to the ground. The phone clattered to the ground a few feet away, ringing in the distance. On the second ring, someone picked up and Mikado’s breath caught as someone answered. Immediately, his palm covered Higa’s mouth as he kneed Higa in the groin.

     “Higa,” Aoba began, voice monotone.

_“Is it done?”_

 

     Mikado released his breath at the sound of Aoba’s voice, as he kneed Higa in the stomach. _Why did you send your friend to die, Aoba?_ He wondered as he removed the knife from his pants. Belatedly, he considered the notion that Aoba didn't have many real friends.  _I could let you go._ Mikado realized as he flicked the tool, activating the blade. Unlike most people, lying to himself about his darker urges wasn’t satisfying. He could let Higa go, but he didn’t want to, so and he would kill Higa, and finally get some relief.

   

The smile that appeared on his face was almost serene as he pulled Higa’s head back by his hair.

    “Not yet,” Mikado answered casually as he slit the older man’s throat, allowing the knife to drop to the floor as he held down Higa’s arms. Blood spurted everywhere, splashing on the walls, painting the floor and the front of Mikado’s shirt.

    “He only has a few minutes left Aoba, I think you should stop by.” He called into the phone, and smiled wider when he heard an audible click.

* * *

 

     As Aoba stood over Higa’s body, he calculated what his next move would be. _I shouldn't have come here._ His gut told him, as he remained painfully aware of the serial killer at his back. Mikado hadn’t said a word since he’d let Aoba in. Hadn’t moved, had barely blinked, as he stood there bathed in the blood of the man he’d just murdered. His habit of playing with fire had become incredibly more dangerous.

     “You haven’t cleaned up at all.” Aoba stated, the first to break the silence.

     “I haven’t.”

     “Why not?”

     “There isn’t really a reason too. Higa attacked me in a place where I was staying.”

      The second he finished that sentence, Aoba became painfully aware of what this was. In other words, _I have nothing to lose here, but you do, don’t you?_ He led him here to force him to bargain. With no fucking chips.

      “You don’t think it would seem strange? That you called me over instead of the police?” Aoba’s voice was cold, distant even, He forced a detachment he did not feel in order to try to grasp control over the situation. For a few moments, Taro’s face was impassive, and then his eyes started to glisten.

 

      “I-I couldn’t b-breathe. I felt like I was choking, and I’m sorry that I didn’t call fast enough, I just, I couldn’t stop looking at him! He was dead, and I didn’t want him to be dead, but I-I was so scared that he would kill me. I was scared that he was dead but also scared that he could be alive, and I just wouldn’t know-is that normal Masaomi?” He choked out, light tears making their way down his face. Ice seeped into Aoba as he realized, layer by layer, how screwed he was. But at the same time, there was a morbid fascination. _Have you done this before, Taro? And if so, how many times?_

     “I just couldn’t believe that I-I did it? I-I killed someone and I couldn’t drag myself out of the room-”

     “I get it, stop.” Aoba snapped, but the other man continued.

     “And then he came, and I realized that it was his voice! On the phone- and oh my god I was so afraid that he would kill me too! I think he sent him after-”

     “I said stop.” He said through clenched teeth. It had been literal years since he’d last yelled at someone, since he’d lost control that much. But he was toeing the edge. Taro wiped away his tears with his hand, and gazed at his palm curiously.

     “I don’t think that was the most convincing, don’t you think? I felt like it could have used something,” Taro admitted as he continued to stare at his palm. _He’s serious._ Aoba realizes with a morbid sense of growing interest and fear. Under Taro’s gaze, his hand began to shake.

    “Ahhhh, I forgot the tremors. Of course! No wonder the performance felt so off.” Taro said casually, and Aoba flashed him a polite grin.

    “It felt off because it was cheesy, Taro-Senpai.” Aoba informed him, smile maintained.

    “Oh it is, but Masaomi likes cheese, enough to send a co-cospiriter to jail for the attempted murder of his boyfriend.” He responded, mirroring his smile with his own relaxed, perfected grin. Anger tasted bitter on his tongue as he forced his gaze back down to the corpse.

    “What do you want, Taro Tanaka?”

    “To have fun.” He said bluntly as his gaze drifted down to Higa’s body. _By playing with me?_ Aoba thought, resentment tasting hot and bitter in his mouth as he realized that Taro didn’t play games with people. People were the games.

    “I won’t be very entertaining in a jail cell.” Aoba mentioned and Taro nodded.

    “No, you wouldn’t.” Taro conceded, as he removed the bottles of bleach from the cupboard.

    “I just have some questions for you. And if you answer them, then there won’t be any problems between us. We should be quick about this. Masaomi won’t be gone for that long.” He continued.

  
  


“So why did you do it? Sabotage him I mean,” Taro asked, bloody towel in hand. Aoba frowned at him, surprised that he even cared enough to ask.

     “He was an inconvenience,” Aoba explained shortly as he eyed the wound on Higa’s neck. It was his first time being in close proximity to a corpse, of all things. His eyes shifted to the movement of Taro’s hands, how mechanically he removed blood from them. Aoba wasn’t bothered by Higa’s death, he had arranged it. But the way Taro casually set cleaning products on the table was notable. It indicated that on some level, this was part of a routine for him.

    “But why have me get rid of him?” Taro pressed as he pulled gloves on.

    “You were convenient.” Aoba said shortly.

    “More convenient than just killing him yourself? Although technically one could argue that you did kill him, since you gave him a gun without bullets. At least I think you did,” Taro pointed out as he tossed a pair to Aoba. The younger man scowled as he put them on.

    “I did, he decided to kill you today so I didn’t have much time to come up with a plan. And he’d seen me burning something.” Aoba added as he nudged Higa’s body with his foot.

    “He had too much leverage.” Taro paraphrased.

    “Exactly, Taro-Senmpai. Can you give me directions? I don’t have much experience with this.” Aoba admitted as Taro laid down a sheet.

    “My name is Mikado.”  The older man corrected as he grabbed Higa’s shoulders.

    “And I just need you to bring him to the sheet. We can bundle him up and dispose of his body elsewhere.” Taro, no, _Mikado_ continued. _He lied about his name._ Frankly, Aoba felt more shocked by this than he should’ve, given the circumstances. Taro Tanaka was a serial killer whose boyfriend was a detective, of course he lied about his name.

   “Why tell me about this now? I could tell so many people about this, Mikado, especially my brother.” Aoba pointed out as he picked up Higa’s legs. _Do you trust me?_ Was what he was actually asking.  He scowled at the filth on it’s boots as they moved the body to the sheet.

   “You won’t though. If you did, I’d have to let some of your secrets slip. Like how you sent a member of the Blue Squares to his death.” Mikado said easily as he began to wrap Higa up.

   “Naturally I won’t do that senpai. I was just curious.” Aoba purred as he aided Mikado.

   “Naturally.” Mikado laughed and Aoba paused, then threw him a cautious glance.

   “I’m going to contact a friend of mine to dispose of the body. He shouldn’t be long. Do you know when Masaomi is going to return?” Aoba asked as he dialed Neko’s number.

   “An hour or so? I can add some time….” The older man trailed off as the phone began to ring.

   “Aoba? Is it time? Already?” Neko’s voice was shaky, almost on the verge of panic.

   “Yes, get here quickly. We still have cleaning to do,” Aoba explained as he watched Mikado spray the hardwood floors.

   “How much cleaning? Do you need-”

   “No.” Aoba said firmly. “Just bring your car. Be here in ten.” He ordered, tearing his eyes away from the scene. The blood. Even if he refused to think directly about it, the fact remained over his head. He had committed his first murder.

   “Alright,” Neko said shakily.

   “Don’t panic.” Aoba whispered into the phone. “Just listen to me. Nothing will happen to you. I’ll take care of you, I just need you to do this for me.” He added into the phone, and pointedly ignored Mikado’s raised eyebrow. Neko drew in an incredibly shaky breath and Aoba assumed that he was nodding on the other end of the phone.

  “.....ok. I’ll be there. Bye,”

  “Bye.” Aoba responded, and hung up.

  “You’ll take care of him?” Mikado echoed. “I didn’t know that you had friends Aoba.”

Aoba scowled at Mikado briefly. “I’m not Ran.” he muttered and Mikado stared at him for several seconds. Aoba met his eyes with a confused frown, as he shifted under the gaze.

   “What?”

   “You said that sending him to me was convenient, right? Because he had leverage…..” Mikado trailed off, looking pensive. Aoba frankly, wasn’t really sure why they were discussing this even further.

   “Mikado-sempai, are you upset that I sent Higa here?” Aoba asked, trying to get to the point.

   “No,” Mikado said quickly, shaking his head.

   “I’m really happy that you did actually.  I hadn’t killed anyone in what, months? That was nice, but there’s something I don’t really understand about this. You didn’t want Higa to have leverage, but now I have the leverage.” Mikado explained, never losing his wide-eyed, curious expression.

   “Did that seem like the lesser of two evils to you? Giving me control was easier than killing him yourself?” Mikado pried, and cocked his head.  And on some distant level, Aoba himself could feel anxiety rising in his throat, slow and steady, but there. The idea that this was perhaps a grave mistake, was also becoming more apparent. But still, he knew a ploy where he saw one. Mikado wasn’t threatening him, he was fishing and Aoba wasn’t going to take the bait.

   “I’m not afraid of killing anyone.” He responded calmly and reached for the spray bottle. There was a very simple way to clear up this misconception.

   “Do you need help with that?” He added as Mikado pulled it out of reach and handed him a towel instead.

   “It’s already wet, all that’s left is the clean up.” The other man answered, leaning backwards against the table as Aoba lowered himself onto his knees. Clearing the floor of blood was messy, but he noted that it wasn’t much different than cleaning up any other mess.

 This just added smell of iron.

   “He wasn’t after you, you know.” Aoba muttered.

   “He was after Masaomi right? They tend to be.” Mikado answered quietly, his voice accompanied with soft noises from his phone.

   “Maybe Masaomi should learn how to mind his own business.” Aoba suggested and Mikado laughed.

   “That will never happen.”

   “Why did you bring up leverage?” Aoba finally asked after several minutes of silence.

   “Because I’m going to use it.” It was a plain admission, and when Aoba looked at him there was no malice, no internal struggle. Just a simple transparency.

   “But why would you? I have nothing to offer.” Aoba said calmly as he turned back to the mess in front of him. The floors were almost clean. _He wouldn’t turn me in._ He reminded himself as he forced kept his anxieties down. _I know enough to bury both of us. He wouldn’t risk it._ At least that was what he told himself. He didn’t feel like he understood Mikado enough to predict his actions accurately-

 

_That’s what you like right?_

   A traitorous voice reminded him. _You like sitting close to the fire._

  Still, Aoba specifically did not like being burned.

  “Aoba, calm down. You’re looking really stiff,” Mikado commented as he crouched next to him. “I’m not putting you in danger. And I’m not going to do that, but I want a simple favor.” Mikado admitted.

  “What is it?” He asked flatly and the older man smiled.

  “I want you to help me lure Shijima in, because I want to kill him.” Mikado told him and Aoba’s phone rang. He answered it without responding to Mikado. Neko’s voice was cold.

  “I’m outside.”

 

_He wants to kill Shijima._

 

   Aoba wasn’t sure if that lowered his liability or increased it. Shijima may have been stupid, but he served as a good enough pawn.

 

   The walk outside was slowed, mostly because of Higa’s dead weight. Aoba wondered how Mikado had been able to overpower and ultimately kill him. _A trained fighter? Or just a good technique?_ Aoba’s own hunch was a mixture of the two. Neko averted his eyes away from the wrapped up body as it was put in his trunk.

   “Is it Higa?”

   “It is.” Aoba responded, and Neko nodded.

   “Where am I supposed to take his body?”

   “Find a good place to dump it. I would suggest driving out to dump it off outside of town. Nobody’s going to report Higa missing for awhile, and the cops aren’t going to look too hard for him.” Aoba reminded him as Mikado leaned forward.

   “Try oceans. Or maybe an abandoned highway. Just make sure you’re not seen doing it, and you’ll be fine.” Mikado suggested casually, and Aoba wondered how much experience he had with those methods before adding, “Also, he was never here.”

 

   Neko drove off not long after that, and the two men returned to their earlier cleaning endeavor. As both of them scrubbed the hard floors cleaned, Aoba’s thoughts went back to their earlier conversation. _Was Mikado really the less dangerous option?_ When he made the decision to have Higa killed, it seemed like such an easy decision. Now he realized that it could have easily been a mistake borne out of an oversight.

  “I really like hardwood floors.” Mikado stated as he eased himself onto the ground, back against the wall.

  “Can I go now?” Aoba asked dryly as Mikado reached up for him. Shivers crawled up Aoba’s arm as Mikado’s fingers brushed Aoba’s own. They tangled with his and the older man gently pulled on them.

 “Masaomi will call when he’s almost home. It’s okay, I just want to talk.” He added as Aoba pulled against his grip. And that made him pause.

 “Talk about what?”

 “You.”

 

  Slowly, Aoba eased himself onto the floor next to Mikado. The other man continued holding his hand, even as he stared ahead.

  “What about me? I’m assuming that you won’t tell anyone about Higa-”

  “It’s normal to be worried at the beginning, I mean. About being caught? Most people are after their first kill.”

  “I’m assuming that your anxiety was a sight to behold, Mikado. Did anyone end up finding out?” Aoba asked, smile malicious as he began to prod once more. _Just how genuine is your anxiety? Was it ever?_

  “I wasn’t.” He said simply. “But someone did find out, they just didn’t tell anyone. But I was just really excited for what would come next.” _Who found out?_

  “Even jail?” Aoba’s question was met with a sheepish smile.

  “Yeah. I was so desperate for a change of pace that I was willing to lose everything just to get something different. I was just trapped for long, that anything would have been an exit. From that stagnation. I hated it,” He admitted and gave Aoba a careful smile.

  “Still, you were right Aoba. About me anyway, liking you. Because I do, I mean, I like you.” The admission was nervous, shaky even, as Mikado squeezed Aoba’s hand. HIs free palm cupped Aoba’s cheek, thumb rubbing circles right underneath his chin.

  “I like you a lot.”

  Aoba felt hot, his heart pounding in his chest as he pulled his hand free. He cupped Mikado’s face with both hands as he leaned closer. _He’s waiting for a response,_ Aoba realized. _But I’m not sure if I have an honest one to give._ Did he like Mikado? It was far easier to list the things he disliked. He disliked the lies, the games, the idea of being a game even, the numerous masks the other man enjoyed wearing.

 

But.

 

  He also liked the lies, the games, the numerous masks the other man enjoyed wearing. And just maybe, some part of him enjoyed being a game--- _Maybe as long as Mikado is playing it._ He wasn’t sure if he liked Mikado, or if he just liked whatever twisted thing they had. But regardless;

  “I like you too. Maybe not as much, but I do like you.” Aoba responded and Mikado smiled as he kissed him. He felt hot as he pressed against Mikado, grip tightening on his face as they deepened the kiss. Mikado’s hands found themselves in Aoba’s hair, tight and secure. Then a phone was ringing and they were moving apart far too quickly. Mikado answered his phone, and responded to Masaomi’s questions with smooth, practiced answers as Aoba put his coat back on.

 

  “We can meet up again tomorrow,” Aoba mouthed quickly, eyes going to the window. _He’s not back yet._ But he would be soon. 

  “Call me if anything goes wrong.” He added, as he put distance between the two of them. Mikado nodded, expression impassive as Aoba left. _I need to figure out what to do next._ Aoba thought as he pushed Mikado out of his mind. What this meant going forward, he didn’t know yet. But he had more important things that needed to be addressed first.

_Higa’s dead. It’s only a matter of time before someone notices._ _And I need to be ready for when everything blows over._

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, this is done! If you have any questions, drop by at https://talesofdurarara.tumblr.com/!
> 
> Or just ask it in the comments below


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